


Last Breath Spent Alone

by GhostGreninja



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Gijinka, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sort of Unreliable Narrator, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhappy Ending, i guess it's gijinka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGreninja/pseuds/GhostGreninja
Summary: As a woman steps to her impending doom, she relives some of her memories, for the better or worse.





	Last Breath Spent Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote impulsively again sorry its kinda rushed...this was an experiment to see if I could write weirdly depressing stuff? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> in this fic, zan partizanne is a human woman has been the provider for her two sisters for a while and overworked. flamberge and francisca are a year apart, but flamberge has 9 years between herself and zan. also they have powers but they're very weak and briefly mentioned
> 
> warning for suicide ideation

The city below was illuminated by streetlights as few unassuming passersby walked across the sidewalks, unaware of the woman staring down at them from the rooftop of a building. The rain was pouring hard, showing no signs of letting up anytime soon. The sound of thunder was practically a roar, and lightning strikes were getting closer, potentially dangerous. 

“My sisters meant the world to me,” the blonde woman, still in work clothes, says to no one in particular. “And now, that world is gone.” They were all I had left, and now I have nothing to live for goes unsaid, and yet it echoes in her mind.

One step, and it was all over.

* * *

“You think Franny’ll like this?” a teenage girl shows her oldest sister a red zebra-print dress. The woman stares at the dress in disgust.

“Put that back where you found it,” the woman says. “I don’t want it in my presence ever again.”

The girl laughs and tosses it to her sister, who treats it as a projectile and dodges. “To the floor it goes!”

The woman glares at her younger sister. “Pick it up, Berge, or else we will not get any food.”

The girl, Flamberge, groans and places the dress back into the rack.

Zan and her sister were out shopping for their youngest sister’s birthday while she was at home. Flamberge’s spiky hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing her favorite red T-shirt and shorts, while Zan was wearing a black sweater and jeans. Both were wearing the same type of black sneakers. The clothing departments were packed with people since a sale was going on.

“I think these ones look nice enough,” Flamberge says, picking out a plain black dress and another with blue and black stripes. “What’d’ya think?”

Zan didn’t know why Flamberge was asking her for her opinion, as it had dawned on her that Flamberge actually sees her every day. “Plain black.”

“I saw this cool-looking blue jacket that would go great with this dress earlier,” Flamberge says, putting back the striped dress. “But I think someone swiped it already.”  
“Then try on the dress and make sure it fits,” Zan says. “I’ll go look for it, stay here. Don’t set the clothes on fire again, please.”

Flamberge rolled her eyes. “I’m wearing gloves, you jerk. And it was ONE TIME.”

“One time is one too many,” Zan says. “And I had to pay for it.”

Flamberge sticks her tongue out before heading to the fitting room. Zan sighs.

Clothes shopping for Francisca seemed relatively easy. Although she owned multiple kinds of clothing, she preferred to wear clothes more on the plain side. When it came to shoes and accessories, however, Zan had vague ideas (she was starting to have trouble remembering things) and felt guilty about it.

If Zan remembered correctly, Francisca liked lighter blue colors, so she picked out a jacket matching the description and wondered if it was the jacket Flamberge was talking about earlier. 

She headed back to the fitting room, but Flamberge was not there. In fact, all of the stalls seemed empty. She texted her sister to no avail. Stepping out of the fitting room for a second. Zan realized that everyone had suddenly left the store or something. Very odd. She texted her sister again.

“Over here,” a voice said from a closed stall. “Come inside.”

Zan recognized it as Flamberge’s voice as she opened the door. Flamberge was sitting on the bench with the black dress on and her other clothes hung up.

“I know what you’re thinking, dude,” Flamberge says with a serious tone that Zan would never hear again until a few years later. “You’re not sure about the jacket you picked out for her.”

“Flamberge, what is the meaning of this,” Zan says not as a question, but a command.

“Or anything you pick out for us, honestly,” Flamberge continues. “It’s totally fine, and you know us better than you think.”

Zan did not agree. She only saw her younger sisters in the morning before they went to school, and sometimes she wouldn’t come home until after they went to sleep. It was becoming more and more difficult to approach them, especially Francisca, as the years went by. 

“You’re gonna think that Francisca hates the jacket when really, she’ll end up finding some excuse to wear it with anything.”

Zan believed the opposite to be true. Ever since she took the place of their parents, she had known her sisters less. If their parents had known exactly what each of them liked, then why couldn’t she? After all, she was the one who had to rise above them, and yet she felt as if she was doing the bare minimum for taking care of her sisters.

“You think you’ve failed as a sister when we couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

Zan would do anything for her younger sisters, and she loved them with all of her soul. Yet, she somewhat believed her sisters hated her, that Flamberge would put up a front, and Francisca was forcing herself to talk to her. And if they truly did hate her, for not being there when she could have been, she deserved it. She could have called off to see one of Francisca’s recitals. She could have called off for Flamberge’s baseball game. There were countless hours she spent sleeping instead of spending time with them.

“We appreciate everything you did and still do for us,” Flamberge says. “So what if you miss some event we’re at? You’ve more than made up for it, Zan. You’ve always protected us, helped us, supported us, and so much more.”

Flamberge rose from the bench and approached her, hugging her. Flamberge was still about a head shorter than she was, but would go through a growth spurt sometime later. The hug is a lot less warm than she expects it to be.

“So please, sis…” Flamberge says. It’s then when Zan looks into the mirror and sees the heavy eye bags and the tears down her face.

“Don’t do it. For us.”

* * *

_“Sis,” Flamberge said on the phone._

_Zan could tell that her tone was more solemn, although she tried her best to hide it. It was understandable, given the circumstances._

_“I know you’re still waiting on an answer,” she continued._

_Not really. Zan hopes she takes as long as she needs to._

_“…I still haven’t decided on what I wanna do,” she said. “I wish the weather wasn’t so dry. Ha, maybe a little rain could give me an idea on some major.”_

_“If only the weather could work in our favor,” Zan said, instantly regretting her words._

_The line was silent for a minute or so. It felt like hours._

_“Do not try to rush into anything just because, Berge,” Zan spoke up. She hasn’t used that nickname in a while. “And do not attempt to place yourself in an uncomfortable position for the sake of your sister. Neither her or I-“_ Click.

* * *

Zan then remembers where she is. The rain has still not let up, and the thunder is still loud. The lightning is getting closer. She takes a step back.

“My sisters have left this world,” Zan says. “There’s nothing I can do to bring them back.”

There are less people in the streets, as it is getting late and the weather is getting worse. Less people to see a body.

The steps to death seem very attractive, but she decides to wait a little longer. She sits before the edge.

* * *

“I see you’re awake at an unreasonable hour,” Zan says when she walks into the apartment. Francisca, clad in bunny-printed pajamas, sees her and smiles, pencil, paper, and notebook in hands.

“I could say the same…never mind. This math exercise is giving me a headache. Flamberge didn’t know what to do either, so I waited for you to come home.”

“Let me see it,” Zan says, sitting next to her on the couch. “I’ll have you know that I completely destroyed every math problem that I have ever encountered.”

Francisca giggles, then shows her the paper. “It’s about trigonometric identities. I can’t figure out how to prove this one.”

Ah, proofs. Nobody likes those. “Try changing the fraction to sines and cosines, then find a common denominator.”

Francisca nodded and started writing on the paper. A few minutes later, she showed her the paper again. “What do I do here?”

“Change the other side to sines and cosines.”

Francisca’s eyes widened a bit, and she became a bit embarrassed that she didn’t notice it before. “Oh.” She verified her answer with Zan.

“That is correct,” she says.

“I spent so much time trying to figure that out that I nearly forgot about my other homework. Then I remembered that you told me to move on if I’m stuck on something so that I wouldn’t neglect everything else.”

The living room light was the only light on in the apartment. Zan could hear Flamberge snoring away in another room. It was almost 12 am as Francisca was finishing her last few math problems. 

“Done!” Francisca says, rising off the couch. “I’m heading off to bed now. Thank you so much for helping me, Zan.”

“No problem,” Zan says. “Make sure you get enough sleep.”

“You too,” Francisca replies. 

Zan laughs in her mind. It’s very rare that she gets an adequate amount of sleep, and tonight was not going to be that type of night. Oh well. Some channel clicking later, Francisca was back in the living room.

“Why are you still awake?” Zan asks. “Do you need some milk?”

“Flamberge is snoring a bit too loud for comfort,” Francisca says. “I usually fall asleep before her. I thought watching TV would make me sleepier.”

“Fine, but be gone within an hour,” Zan says. She suspects that Francisca isn’t telling the truth, but she does trust that she will be back into bed sometime soon.

Francisca sat next to her and watched TV with her. However, something felt very off. The room was getting colder, and Zan felt more uncomfortable on the couch. She decided to start a conversation.

“You said you wanted to study climate change in the polar regions, right?” Zan asked.

“Yes, why?” Francisca replies. 

“I asked Flamberge about what she wanted to study in college and she hasn’t given me an answer,” Zan says. “I was wondering if you had known anything.”

“Ah,” Francisca says. “She hasn’t told me anything, either.”

“She told me that she’s interested in the culinary field,” Zan says. “But she isn’t sure if she should pursue it.”

Flamberge was always a headstrong girl, full of energy. To see her so indecisive about something was bizarre, but considering how important of a decision it was, Zan wasn’t too concerned about her choosing a major so soon. Besides, unlike Zan, she had plenty of time and room to explore opportunities.

“Don’t worry about it,” Francisca says. “I’m sure she’ll figure something out. She always does…eventually.”

“She isn’t one to be lost, nor give up,” Zan remarks.

“I know,” she says. About a minute passes before she says, “I don’t think you should give up, either.”

“Francisca, we are not having this conversation right now,” Zan says, dodging her words. 

“Zan…”

By this time, Flamberge’s snoring was no longer a problem, as Zan could no longer hear any noise. The TV was stuck on a frame of the cartoon they were watching.

“I can’t do anything,” Zan says. “I can’t.”

“Why?” Francisca presses on. “You can do anything.”

“I’ve forgotten who I was, Franny,” she says, although she’s not sure why she’s suddenly speaking from her mind. “You…I know you two are gone. And I don’t have anything left.”

Francisca rose from the couch. “Here’s the thing,” she says. “You were so worried about us that you barely took care of yourself, Zan.”

“And what if I’m worried?!” she snaps. “Someone has to be!”

“Remember what you told me?” Francisca says, tone resolute. “Move on when you’re stuck. Change things around. You’ll figure it out later.”

“Math doesn’t apply to real life.”

“But it can,” she objects. “Eventually, there’s times where nothing seems to work out in your favor. Sometimes, you need guidance. Not relying on yourself. There are people that are always willing to help you, Zan.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know. But this certainly isn’t going to help you. Recovery is a long, difficult process and there’s times where you just want to end it all. But I’m sure that you’ll see the dawn in a new light, someday, sometime in the future.”

“I don’t care anymore. Drink your milk and go to sleep.”

Francisca wrapped her arms around Zan. Her touch was cold, unreal. Nothing about this felt real. Why does it keep happening?

“You do care, sis,” she says. “I know this is hard, but we’ll always be with you.”

Zan tried to protest, but her voice was weak, cracking. She’s not sure if she wants to say anything else.

“So please, turn back. For us.”

* * *

_“I’m investigating potential factors in animal endangerment in the polar regions with a research team,” Francisca told her on the phone. “I’m going with a few of the other science majors on a scholarship. I’m so excited!”_

_“That’s great, Franny,” Zan said sleepily. “I hope you will be well prepared. The weather isn’t a joke, and I’d hate it if you caught a cold.”_

_“Honestly, with the way supplies are now, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were too overprepared. I heard the weather is going to be safe. I mean, as safe as you can get on some of the coldest places on the planet. And I may finally have some other use for the ice power I was blessed with.”_

_“I’m glad,” Zan smiled. “If you need anything from me, I am a simple click away. It sounds like you’re eager for this investigative trip.”_

_“Two weeks away,” Francisca replied. “And I’ll be apart of a world-changing experiment. I’m really looking forward to it!”_

_“Congratulations. Maybe I should do something, too…”_

_“I’m sure you will, sis. Class is going to start soon, I’ll call you back! Love you!”_

_“Bye, Francisca. Love you too.”_ Click.

* * *

The sound of thunder is ringing in Zan’s ears. The lightning’s brightness is blinding. The few people left are running. The rain still has not let up. The electricity tingled in her fingertips. Danger. She ignores it.

She was losing her grip on reality. Nothing is clear, and nothing is working. There’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing left for her in this world.

The distinction between the blurriness from rain and tears is gone. She forgets how to breathe, and her life is no longer in her own control. The noise is deafening, and the strikes have only become brighter. 

She wants to see more. She wants to see her sisters again.

In an act of desperation, she opens her eyes and stares at the clouds. 

 

The last noise this night hears is a guttural, painful scream cut short by the unmerciful lightning.

**Author's Note:**

> debating writing more chapters, specifically about the deaths of the other two sisters. i wanted to include a headcanon in here but i decided that, considering the subject matter, that it was going to be in poor taste. you can ask me what it is though


End file.
